Can't
by Linen Tartaruga
Summary: It was bound to happen eventually.


-1**Title: Can't**

**Characters:** Roy and Ed; Roy's POV

**Summary:** _It was bound to happen eventually._

**Rating:** PG-ish

**Warnings:** Slightly AU (IE we're ignoring the actual end of the series, here); breaking up-ness.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned FMA, then I wouldn't be poor and this wouldn't be fanfic.

It was bound to happen eventually.

It's a terrible way to think when you're beginning a relationship, but sometimes you just can't help it. If you're going to do that, though, you have to be prepared to deal with the consequences, no matter how much you expect them.

Edward was a very bright, intelligent, and mature young man and all of that and more only blossomed as he grew older. After he'd restored his brother's body and they were able to pick up their lives where they'd left off, the worry lines and fierce distrust that had colored his countenance for all of the years that I had known him had faded away and left only a handsome young man with a smile that could warm any soul and his whole life ahead of him. I had been pleased to hear of his decision to remain with the military under the new administration and, with his influence and my own support, he was able to acquire a laboratory in Central where he performed research and experiments, not out of the desperate need to save his brother's life, but of his pure, innocent, and insatiable curiosity.

Men and women who had had their State Certifications for decades were impressed with how much the blonde had accomplished in only six years; but those of us that had known him during the first five years of his commission couldn't be. We'd known the sacrifices that he'd made for his brother, not just the tangible -- his arm, his automail limbs and the physical strain that came with them -- but his very life itself. Alphonse had stopped aging the moment that of the rebound and Edward had imprisoned him in the suit of armor that now stood in Edward's office (a morbid reminder of his sins and transgressions against his family and whatever god he didn't believe in), and Edward had made the decision, either conscious or unconsciously, that he, too, would put his life on hold until he was able to give that back to Alphonse. His love, devotion, and attention was poured into his younger brother to the point of obsession and everything was put aside and put off until he was able to repay his brother the wrong he believed he had done him.

Knowing this, it seemed only natural that, once that all-encompassing weight was lifted from his mind, all of these inspired theories and innovations would come pouring out. Edward had amassed enough knowledge, credibility, respect, and accomplishments to have been promoted several ranks had he been enlisted and at all interested in the power. Some wondered why he remained a simple commissioned officer, but they never respected him any less.

His reputation had grown immensely from his already impressive one and he'd even soon garnered a legion of admirers to rival my own. I suppose, considering that, it was rather ironic that he eventually moved into my own home.

Please don't misunderstand, me, however: I do not mean to imply that it was in any way that simple. It took quite a lot of effort on my own part. There were so many walls and barriers that I had to push my way past that Edward hadn't even realized he'd erected and, even once I'd managed to get past most of them there was still so much distrust there. I'd thought, however, that that, too, would be dealt with in time once I'd proven myself to him -- how hard could it be, after all? We'd been through quite a lot together and, though my . . . less than admirable reputation did often precede me, I assumed that, once we reached a certain point and I had neither left him nor cheated on him, he would begin trusting me more.

I suppose that's unfair of me. I don't mean to imply that he was just as untrusting after five years as he was when we'd first started out, however, the fact that I was still getting suspicious glares after getting home late from work, that he would interrogate the women I would meet to make sure that there was and never had been anything between us, that he would insist on being there when I _would_ go out for a friendly lunch with one of my former consorts . . . After so long, such things can tire even the strongest of men, and I will readily admit that I have never fit that title.

Of course Edward wasn't entirely to be blamed. I know very well what sort of life he's led up until now; I don't know if he's ever really seen any sort of long term relationship work out without ending in betrayal or tragedy, so of _course_ he would be wary of starting one of his own. I thought that I could help him; I thought that I could show him that he could trust some people; that not every relationship had to end with one or both partners getting hurt. Even after five years, though . . . There were good times, of course, as there always are, but they seemed to grow fewer and fewer as the years went on; I can't really remember the last time we had a pleasant dinner together. And, even though I know that it will only reinforce his own thoughts on the matter and though I know it will break his heart . . . I'm ashamed to say that I simply can't take do it anymore. I can't take his suspicious glances, his questions, his distrust.

I'm not leaving -- that is one thing that I will afford him, though I know it will make little difference -- I will simply tell him, in no uncertain terms, that I cannot continue a relationship with someone that questions my every movement and action.

And when the betrayal and pain nearly crumble him before he covers it up with his usual angry mask, I will pretend not to see it.

And when he rants and raves and tells me that he knew that it is was bound to happen eventually, I will pretend not to hear it.

And when he realizes that his suitcases are already packed and a train ticket is waiting for him to Rizenbul where his brother will take him in and comfort him the way he needs and he accuses me of being a smartass, I will pretend I didn't know it.

And when he storms out of the door and out of my life, I will pack my things and pretend I don't feel it until I wake up the next morning in a cold and unfamiliar bed.

_-End_


End file.
